Reckless
by lycanus1
Summary: Where an ill-thought decision by Arthur leads to an unfortunate outcome and reveals a certain, extremely guarded knight's rebellious and protective streak ... **WARNING: Contains mild slash and rated, mostly thanks to Bors' runaway yap, for strong language.**
1. War Wounds

**Type:** a mixed bag of angst, romance, h/c and friendship. I know ... I just couldn't decide.  
 **Disclaimer:** _Still NOT mine_ \- though not for the want of wishing, hoping & trying. Still Jerry Bruckheimer's & Touchstone Pictures' boys, godsdammit !

 **Warning:** _contains mild slashy themes and curtesy of one very gobby, hacked off Bors, some pretty strong language ... Plus, not a story for Arthur lovers._

 **XXXXX**

 _ **Part I - War Wounds**_

"Tristan ... Wait !" Arthur began cautiously only cower inwardly when he was skewered by an extremely baleful glare from the Aorsi Scout.

" _This_ is all _your_ fault, Arthur. You care more for complete strangers, these damn Woads and your fucking Rome than you do for your own men. If you'd fucking listened to me earlier instead of that conniving Woad bitch, this wouldn't have happened. Dag would've been unharmed. But no, you took the advice of a stranger over someone with years of scouting experience. I blame _you_ personally for this and if anything happens to Dag - if I lose him - I swear on all that's sacred I won't be responsible for my actions !"

In a shockingly, uncharacteristic display of barely restrained emotion, a furious Tristan bent down over Dagonet's inert body, pulled out a sharp knife and carefully used it to cut through the arrow shafts that protruded from the Roxolani Healer's torso. As he did so, he was stunned by a slight movement from his fallen comrade.

Slowly, Dagonet's large hand slid to cover the back of his and wide-eyed Tristan's stunned, yet relieved golden gaze fell upon him. The gentle giant watched him with narrowed, pain-filled silver eyes and joked feebly, "Can't a man die in peace ?"

"D-Dag ?"

"I close my eyes only for a moment to try to catch my breath and _you_ , my stubborn, bloodthirsty Scout, are playing merry hell with everyone," Dagonet reproached him, his voice faint and hoarse with pain. Yet the look he gave the younger knight conveyed far more than anything he could ever say. It held a smidgen of fond exasperation combined with a great deal of trust and above all, love.

Despite the gravity of Dagonet's condition, Bors and Gawain couldn't help exchanging a relieved grin at the Healer's attempt at humour. It was so bloody typical of the man to try and spare their feelings, to protect them, rather than put his own wellbeing first.

Uncaring of the other knights presence, Tristan lowered his dark head and tenderly brushed his lips against Dagonet's forehead.

"Never ... _ever_ do that to me again, Dag. D'ya hear me ? Gods ! You scared me half to death pulling a stunt like that," the Aorsi groused, worry making his voice huskier and his faint accent even more pronounced. "I mean it ... If anything happened to you it ... it'd fucking kill me ... "

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Tris. _Can't_ lose you. Not now. Damn it ! I _won't_ lose you ... You're far too important to me." The tall warrior's voice began to fade and his powerful physique trembled violently with cold.

Concerned, Tristan immediately stripped off his thick, brown, woollen cloak and wrapped it carefully around the ailing Healer. The tattooed Sarmatian felt a gentle nudge at his shoulder and looked up to find Bors and Gawain had also removed their cloaks and silently offered them to him.

"Here, lad, take 'em," Bors said gruffly. "Dag needs 'em more than we do."

Gawain knelt down beside Tristan to carefully drape his cloak around Dagonet's shoulders, his shrewd blue eyes anxious. "We'll soon have you up 'n' about, old friend," the Halani's good-natured, attractive face broke into a reassuring grin. "Tris'll make damn sure you heal 'n' get well ... or _our_ lives won't be worth living !"

The Roxolani had a slight smile and met Gawain's worried gaze steadily. "Then I'd better heal. Fast," he rasped. He looked pale and exhausted. "I'm sorry for being a burden ... Forgive me, friend ?"

Gawain shook his blond head and replied softly, "There's nowt to forgive, brother. If you hadn't acted so quickly, the Whelp would surely be lost to us all ... If it hadn't been for your courage ... No, I can't, won't, hold your actions against you - even if you did put the fear of the gods in us all, especially _your_ Scout !" Gawain teased gently, drawing another faint smile from the injured man.

"I'd laugh," Dagonet quietly confided, "but it hurts too much." He gazed fondly at the glowering, over-protective Scout, then shivered once more from the cold. Dagonet began to cough violently, sending his body into painful spasms that had the Aorsi clearly worried.

"We should move him, Arthur," Bors stated bluntly. "Otherwise Dag'll freeze to death before Gawain here gets a chance to dig out those bloody arrows."

Arthur had been silently observing the interaction between the four Sarmatians in front of him. He slowly nodded his dark head, then came to a decision. "Bors, you and Gawain move Dagonet to the wagon and get him settled. Tristan, I need you to ride on ahead and keep me informed of any trouble we may come across- "

On hearing his name, Tristan's head jerked upwards. A feral gleam shone in his golden eyes. And the look he gave Arthur was long, unforgiving and full of pure hatred. Both Gawain and Bors winced at its intensity.

" _No !_ " he growled. "I'm not leaving him. My place is at Dagonet's side- "

"Tristan !" Arthur's voice was stern and indicated he'd tolerate no argument, even from his trusted, deathdealing Scout. " _You_ will ride ahead and you _will_ report back to me. Is _that_ understood ?"

It was blindingly obvious to the other three Sarmatians that the normally deeply private Scout was torn. Torn between his duty to Arthur and the intense desire to care for and protect his lover. To say Tristan was a far from happy man at that moment was an understatement.

Dagonet felt the lean, athletic figure that was tenderly cradling him, tense in ice-cold rage and not wanting their hapless leader to bear the brunt of Tristan's all-consuming wrath calmly made the Scout's decision for him.

"Go, Tris, please ... Once I'm in the wagon, I'll be fine ..."

"Well you don't bloody look it," Tristan's reply was straight and to the point. His eyes softened as he watched Dagonet carefully for any sign of increasing pain or distress, his chin still raised in obstinate defiance.

Feeling inexplicably tired and in a great deal of pain - which he stubbornly tried to conceal from his all-too-observant Scout - Dagonet sighed heavily. "Please, Tris ... if not for Arthur, just do this one thing for me ... I beg of you. The sooner you ride out, the sooner you get back ..." He deliberately left the sentence unfinished, knowing full well that the Aorsi would immediately realize that he wanted him to return safely so that they could be together. Alone ...

Tristan relented, albeit with extreme reluctance. He gave his wounded lover a fleeting, bitter-sweet smile.

"I only do this because _you_ ask it of me, Wolf. I'm not happy about it, but if it brings you peace and makes you happy then ..." Tristan elegantly shrugged his shoulders and, ignoring the other men, added with unfeigned candour, "Just remember, you're the most important person in my life, brother and I love you above all others."

Then, unable to deny himself, Tristan gently caressed his rugged Healer's scarred cheek with a calloused thumb before kissing him affectionately on his brow, much to the bemusement of the other knights.

 _To hell with it !_ Tristan thought. He felt no shame or embarrassment about his feelings for the striking, Roxolani. If anything, he was delighted and if truth be told extremely proud that this brave, gentle, endearingly shy, intensely private man had accepted him as his lover.

Although he ferociously guarded his own privacy, Tristan genuinely adored the strapping, cropped-haired knight and had come to love him more than life itself. Life without Dagonet would truly be unthinkable. Unbearable. Meaningless. The Healer had turned him into a better man, of that he had no doubt.

Tristan gently transferred his Healer into Bors' capable hands and muttered, "Look after him for me, Bors. See that he has no pain or discomfort. Please ..."

Treated to a rare glimpse of the tender, caring side of the Scout's nature had left the older, vociferous Roxolani dumbfounded and at a loss. He could only nod in silence.

"Tristan ... ?"

The younger man turned to look at the younger Roxolani. He raised his eyebrow questioningly, "Aye ?"

"Take care of yourself ... Don't ... Don't do anything stupid- "

"Hell, Dag ! Who the fuck d'ya think I am ?" Tristan gave a sudden grin of pure devilry that lit up his stern, handsome countenance. "Galahad ? Huh ! Rat Boy ?"

Despite the agonizing pain he felt, the Healer laughed softly in genuine amusement at the blatant insult Tristan dealt Arthur's second-in-command and replied, "I mean it, Scout. Come back to me safe and well ..."

Nimbly leaping to his feet with a feline grace, Tristan smiled sadly and nodded. Silently, he turned on his heel and without sparing a backward glance at Arthur, reluctantly left to do his beloved Roxolani Healer's bidding.

 **T. B. C.**


	2. Blood Knows Best

**A/N:** Please read chapter 1 for disclaimer and any warnings !

 **XXXXX**

 _ **Part II - Blood knows best ...**_

Night had fallen when Tristan finally arrived back at the garrison with Storm. Intense worry over Dagonet's condition combined with the fact that he was physically tired, made him extremely short-tempered and irrational.

After he'd returned from his original scouting mission, Arthur had demanded a full report. Normally the task didn't take long ... This time, Arthur detained him for over an hour, repeatedly grilling him over the non-eventful mission. He'd then been ordered to ride out on another patrol and report back immediately on his return. This took up yet more time, something he was rapidly running out of. It left the vexed Scout beside himself and trembling violently with barely contained fury, especially when he realized Arthur was deliberately preventing him from being with Dagonet.

Eventually, Tristan stormed out of the chamber which held the Round Table, vehemently cursing his commanding officer under his breath in Sarmatian, as he hastily made his way to the knights' quarters. The main reason for his increasing anger was Arthur's warning to stay away from Dagonet. That he was not to see him on his return, but to find something to eat and return immediately to his own quarters. Shocked, the Aorsi could only stare at Arthur in stunned disbelief. Anger and resentment rapidly set in and he wordlessly left the chamber, wild-eyed, pale-faced, agitated and full of aggressive tension. Defiantly, he ignored Arthur's orders and headed for the chamber next to his.

There, he found Bors. The older knight sat quietly - something of a rarity for him - by the huge, fur-covered bed, his anxious gaze firmly fixed upon its fitfully sleeping occupant.

" _Finally !_ Where the bloody hell have you been, Scout ?" Bors growled softly, his eyes never leaving his dozing cousin. Then, in a slightly more forgiving tone, he added, "He's been asking for you."

Tristan carefully closed the door and moved to stand beside the older knight, his gaze set unwaveringly upon Dagonet. "How is he ?" he asked, his voice gruff with concern.

Hearing the anxiety in the Scout's voice, Bors turned to watch him. The look on his usually good-natured face was thoughtful.

The Aorsi looked like hell; fear and worry clouded his golden eyes and his lean, noble face was pale, making the tattoos on his high cheekbones stand out markedly. Every sleek line and toned muscle of his lean, athletic frame was governed by tension and he appeared to be at the point of exhaustion. It was then Bors came to the sudden realization, it was only sheer stubborn grit and determination that kept Tristan on his feet. The man had been functioning on pure adrenaline alone.

"He's in a lot of pain," Bors replied hoarsely, "but Gawain did a fine job getting shot of those fucking arrows. Dag should heal well. All he needs is rest, a lot of care ... 'n' love." And judging by the younger knight's rare, unguarded expression, Bors shrewdly judged that Dagonet would be on the receiving end of all of those things. Although clearly tired, the Scout was studying his lover with such respect, passion and affection that it left the burly, mouthy fighter with the feeling that he was intruding on something extremely private and intimate ... It was at that exact moment, Bors was truly convinced how deeply the normally secretive Aorsi was in love with his kinsman.

"I don't mean to harp on about it, but what kept you, lad ?" the stocky Roxolani mildly asked, "thought you'd have come by sooner."

Tristan sighed heavily and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached for Dagonet's right hand and held it gently between both of his. The simple gesture brought a change in the slumbering Healer and to the other knights astonishment, he seemed to visibly relax once he felt the Scout's touch. It instantly soothed and comforted him and put him at ease. A slight smile appeared on his beautifully shaped, kissable mouth, that made Tristan catch his breath.

"Bloody Arthur, that's what," Tristan finally replied. "As soon as I got back he sent me out on another damn patrol, even though he knew how worried I was about Dag. Hell, Bors ! He even warned me to stay away from my Wolf ... That I wasn't to see him- "

Bors immediately leapt to his feet. All trace of good humour had left his face and his features darkened with anger. " _He did WHAT ?_ Th-That bloody Roman halfwit _knew_ how badly Dag wanted to see you ... I'll fucking kill him !"

"No, Bors ... Leave it. No point in us both being in trouble. I'm in enough shit as it is for insubordination. Wouldn't want you to suffer because of my temper, my friend. It wouldn't be fair to yo- "

"Wouldn't be fair ?" Bors spluttered, his arms gesticulating wildly, conveying his acute displeasure. "What that idiot's doing _isn't_ fair. To you or Dag ... It's not right, y'daft bugger. 'Specially when him 'n' Lancelot have been regularly fucking over the past few months ... Fucking hypocritical of the bastard, if you ask me- "

"Bors, please ..." Tristan eyed the older warrior through the shock of dark hair which had fallen in front of his eyes.

"Listen, lad ... What Arthur's doing is well out of order. Gods ! Doesn't he realize that keeping you apart could actually set back Dag's recovery ? The bloody fool doesn't know his fucking arse from his fucking elbow !"

Bors' rant coaxed a faint smile of genuine amusement from the Scout. This was far better than Tristan had dared hope for, as he'd been dreading the garrison's prize-fighter finding out the true nature of his relationship with Dagonet. But Bors' sincere acceptance and passionate defence of it had moved the Aorsi deeply. For all of the pugilistic Roxolani's loud bluster and bravado, the man had a big heart and genuinely cared for his fellow knights' happiness and wellbeing.

"Look, Tristan ... I freely admit there are times you can be a right pain in the fucking arse 'n' sometimes, you _really_ piss me off ..." Bors paused and looked slightly sheepish. "But _you_ make my cousin truly happy 'n' I can see you think the world of him, so ... so for what it's worth, you both have my blessing 'n' support ..." Bors grinned and the Scout returned it with gentle smile.

The blessing and support of Dagonet's kinsman was vitally important to Tristan. It was something he'd dreamed of - longed for - yet never believed possible. He glanced down at Dagonet, who now slept peacefully at his side and absently caressed the back of the Healer's hand with his thumb as he tried to find the words to thank Bors. For once, the older man knew exactly what was going through the aloof enigma's mind and grinned at the sight of the tongue-tied Scout.

"Gods ! You don't need to say anything. Just carry on loving my cousin. Treat him well 'n' keep him happy. That's all the thanks I crave, lad ... Right, I'd better go tell Van how the big lug is, or she'll have my hide. By the look of you, don't suppose you've had anything to eat either - I'll get her to prepare something 'n' bring it back for you. Can't have you falling ill, y'daft bugger. Dag needs you to be strong for him ... I need you to be strong for him ..."

Not bothering to wait for a reply, Bors promptly left and closed the door quietly behind him.

 _ **XXXXX**_

Bors took a slight detour on the way back to the tavern and stopped at the physician's for advice. He knew he'd half-heartedly agreed not to cause any trouble, but Arthur's unreasonable behaviour towards his cousin's relationship with the Scout had made his blood boil.

So, like any responsible, caring relative, he'd thoroughly grilled the physician as to whether any stress or upset could seriously hinder his kinsman's recovery. To Bors' gleeful delight, the man stated vehemently that Dagonet should be kept calm and under no circumstances be upset. That was the moment an adamant Bors came to the decision that if Arthur was determined to separate Dagonet and Tristan, then he was going to do all in his power to prevent the Roman from going anywhere near his beloved young cousin. If anything. Bors was relishing the prospect of telling their "oh-so-mighty" leader to _"go and fuck himself"_ and that - under the physician's advice, of course - _he_ wouldn't be allowed to see Dagonet either !

When he eventually returned to the Healer's quarters, laden with enough food and wine to feed an army, he was met by a sight which brought a huge grin to his face.

Propped up against the pillows, the scruffy, darkly handsome Aorsi lay fast asleep on top of the furs which covered the bed, cradling his half-naked, slumbering lover protectively and tenderly in his arms. Much to Bors' amazement, his kinsman was smiling faintly and looked contented and at peace. Seeing both men in such a vulnerable, intimate moment was enough to convince him that he'd made the right decision to bar Arthur from his kinsman's chamber.

Dagonet and Tristan deserved, and were entitled, to be together. To be left undisturbed. And Bors fully intended for the status quo to remain that way. At all costs ...

A sudden knock on the door broke Bors' train of thought. Frowning, Bors placed the food and wine carefully on the small table in the corner of the room, then moved to open the door. Arthur stood there.

"Yes ?" Bors growled and stared coldly at the Roman commander.

"Dagonet. I've come to see him," Arthur replied and began push his way into the room. Bors instinctively had the door in a vice-like grip and deliberately blocked the other man's path.

"No can do," he began, enjoying the flickering emotions that crossed Arthur Castus' face. Arthur appeared confused and was clearly shocked that he was being refused admittance.

"Bors, I'm _your_ commander and _I'm_ seeing him- "

"'N' _I'm_ his cousin - _his_ blood kin - who knows'n' wants what's best for him," Bors hissed, his grip on the door turning his knuckles white. "You're _not_ seeing him. Right now, you're the last person in this fucking cesspit my cousin needs to see. I've only just got him to sleep, godsdammit ! Dag needs his rest. No one - I mean _no one_ \- other than family gets to come in here- "

" _Bors !_ "

"I'm dead serious, Arthur. Anyone else has to go through me. The physician clearly said Dag's to be left in peace ... The way you acted earlier about him 'n' the Scout really upset him 'n' I'm not letting you do that again ... Seeing _you_ will only make things worse."

Clearly annoyed by Bors' stubborn and infuriating behaviour, Arthur demanded, "What did Tristan say to you, Bors ?"

"Fuck all," the Roxolani retorted, feeling what little control he had on his fiery temper begin to slip. "Haven't seen hide nor hair of the man since we got back ... _Why ?_ What have _you_ done ?" Bors smartly turned the tables on Arthur and had no qualms about lying to him.

The Roman did not reply and looked distinctly uncomfortable under the Roxolani's relentless glare.

" _Arthur !_ " Bors spat impatiently.

"I just can't have the pair of them involved like that. I can't. Gawain and Galahad's relationship's bad enough. But Tristan and Dagonet ? No ! It ends now. I will not condone it. They have a duty to fulfil- "

"Bugger the duty ! The pair of them are two of your most loyal knights. 'N' this is how you fucking repay them ? What you're doing is cruel. It'll kill them both. They _need_ to be together. Hell ! Even _I_ can see that. I've never seen Dag happier than he's been over these past few weeks 'n' that's all down to that damn fool Aorsi ..." he paused and agitatedly rubbed his nape. "'N' Tristan ? He needs Dag like I need air to breathe. He only listens to Dagonet 'cause Dag's his rock. His fucking conscience. Bloody hell, Arthur ! Can't you see Dag's the only one capable of keeping our Scout sane ? 'N' that's no bad thing ... If you're so fucking hellbent on splitting them then, then you're a fucking hypocrite !"

"Excuse me ? I'm a what ... ?"

"You 'eard ... A fucking hypocrite. It's wrong to stop two people from being together when you 'n' Poncelot have been fucking for months. No point denying it. _I_ know you are ... We _all_ do. We've known for ages. So don't bother lying to me. I know y'all think I'm stupid, but I'm no fool. Dag 'n' his Scout aren't just bedding each other ... There's more to their relationship than that. A blind man can clearly see they love each other. 'N' in this hell we've been forced to fucking live in, they should be allowed to grab whatever happiness they can find ..."

What Bors said rang true and made a lot of sense, something Arthur found impossible to deny. Knowing how protective Bors was of his cousin, he realized it would be impossible to convince him otherwise, so he turned on his heel and silently left.

Bors drew a long sigh of relief and quickly closed the door. A feeling of incredulity swept over him as the realization that he'd bested Arthur hit him. It made him grin with immense satisfaction. Then, once he was certain that Dagonet and Tristan wouldn't be disturbed, he returned to his family, quietly shutting the door behind him.

 **T. B. C.**


	3. Of Comfort and Confession

**A/N:** Please read chapter 1 for disclaimer and any warnings !

 **XXXXX**

 _ **Part III - Of comfort and confession ...**_

Although Bors had tried his damnedest to keep things quiet, Tristan was roused from his much needed rest at the start of the volatile Roxolani's "bugger the duty" tirade.

The older knight's passionate and eloquent defence of his quiet, gentle cousin's relationship with the mercurial Scout had stunned Tristan ... especially when he discovered _who_ was on the receiving end of the burly warrior's wrath. Bors had proved himself to be a stalwart friend and staunch ally and the Aorsi's respect for the man had increased tenfold.

When Bors finally left, Tristan carefully eased himself off the bed so as not to disturb Dagonet. Although asleep, the older man appeared calmer and much improved. He glanced down at the scarred, ruggedly attractive, gentle giant and felt his heart skip a beat. He loved Dagonet with every fibre of his being and just thinking of how close he came to losing his lover made his blood run cold ...

It had been a long day and by now the Aorsi was starving. He swiftly, yet carefully, ate the bread, meat and fruit provided by Vanora, with obvious relish before silently slipping out of the chamber to relieve and wash himself. He'd hoped to return unnoticed, but to his dismay when he re-entered the Healer's quarters, he found his lover half-awake and extremely agitated. Dagonet's beautiful silver-grey eyes were stormy with worry and confusion. Yet, as soon as he laid eyes upon his errant Scout, he visibly relaxed.

"Tristan ... ?"

Tristan hurriedly removed his olive-green, suede tunic and his undershirt. Then clad in just snug, form-fitting calf-skin breeches, he silently approached the bed.

"Shh ... Rest, Dag. I'm back ... " he spoke softly, his husky voice pitched at the same soothing tone he used to comfort both his destrier and hawk when they were distressed. "You're weary, my brave Wolf ... Go back to sleep. I'll take care of you, dearest one ..."

"You're late," the tall knight murmured drowsily, watching Tristan through heavy-lidded eyes.

Tristan calmly slid under the blanket and carefully curled his lithe body protectively around the injured man, successfully avoiding his wounds. "I know and I'm sorry, Dag ... but I'm here now and that's all that matters."

Dagonet sighed gently and reached for Tristan's hand, his long, callused fingers interlacing with his Scout's. "I'm glad. I couldn't rest 'til I knew you were back, safe and well ... I, I missed you, my Scout."

Tristan smiled, then lightly grazed his lips against the other man's right temple. "I love you, Dagonet," he confessed simply. "Do you honestly think I'd _willingly_ allow anyone or anything to keep us apart ?"

The Healer slowly turned to look at him and studied the silent killer's face carefully and saw only truth shining in his enigmatic, golden eyes. "So, you love me ?" A wry grin graced his ruggedly attractive countenance as Tristan, feeling uncomfortably sheepish, met his mild, steady gaze.

"No, Dag ..." Tristan paused, then felt the Roxolani's warm, virile body tense in fear of rejection. Tristan sighed gently and moved closer to embrace him. "Oh, Dag, you fool, I don't just love you ... I-I'm ... Fuck ! I'm _in_ love with you, man ... Do you understand what I'm saying ?"

Wide-eyed and confused, the Healer could only stare incredulously at him. Finally, he rasped, "Y-You're in love with _me_ ?"

"What's not to love ?" Tristan countered huskily, his austere, noble features softening as he affectionately studied his dazed lover. He reached out a hand and caressed Dagonet's stubbled jaw. " _You're_ everything to me ... and to think how fucking close I came to losing you today. I truly thought my heart was breaking when you fell, Dag. Felt so damn helpless and there was nothing I could do to fucking stop ... Swear to me you'll _never_ do anything like that again ... Promise me, Dag !"

The strapping Roxolani heard the Aorsi's voice break and was shocked to see the striking, honey-hued eyes glistening brightly with unshed tears. His composed, lion-hearted Scout was distraught and vulnerable because of him ... Because of his reckless actions ...

"I swear, Tris, on my life, I _never_ meant to hurt you ... But I couldn't leave the Whelp at the not-so-tender mercies of those damned Woads. Not when they deliberately ambushed and shot his horse down from under him. Galahad's my friend. My little brother. In all good conscience, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if we'd lost him ... if he'd died and I'd been able to save him. And I'd never be able to look Gawain in the eye if I had ... My only regret is that I didn't think things through properly ... That my actions caused you so much pain ..."

"No, you bloody fool, you didn't ! We only just found each other and you nearly got yourself fucking killed !" Dagonet couldn't fail to hear the growing hysteria in his Scout's faintly accented voice and quickly drew the younger knight close to him, ignoring the dull, painful ache in his flank caused by the sudden movement.

"Shh, my fiesty hawk," he murmured and lowered his head to lightly brush his lips against Tristan's forehead. "I'm _still_ here, aren't I ? Thanks to you, Bors and Gawain. You're not getting rid of me that easily, not when I feel the same way about yo- "

"Should bloody well think so," Tristan muttered, chewing his lower lip uneasily.

"I'm sorry, Tris ... Forgive me ... ?"

Tristan slowly raised his head and gazed thoughtfully at his beloved, repentant Healer through his wild fringe of hair, then unexpectedly, grinned. "There's nothing to forgive, my reckless Wolf. You know damn well that I can never lie to you or hold anything against you- "

Sighing, Dagonet idly caressed Tristan's warm, tautly muscled abdomen. "Tris, I don't deserve you. Or your love, even though I return it wholeheartedly. I belong to you, Scout. No one else."

The candid admission left the Aorsi stunned. Yet, being a brutally honest man, he couldn't deny how pleased the Roxolani's confession made him. "I'm yours, Dag. Yours alone ... Don't think I'll ever want or care for anyone as much as I do for you. No one else compares to you ... don't even come close. "

Dagonet's fingertips lightly skimmed Tristan's cheekbones before leisurely roaming across his neatly trimmed, greying beard and tilting up his chin so that he could tenderly kiss the younger man's tempting lips.

Tristan relaxed competely and surrendered himself entirely to Dagonet's addictive touch. It was only when his right arm brushed against the bandages around the Healer's trim waist that he abruptly came to his senses and reluctantly broke the kiss. The older warrior watched him through hooded, smokily seductive eyes before smiling shyly at him. Tristan steadily held his gaze, his liquid gold eyes burning with passion. And love.

"Behave, Dag !" he growled huskily, his voice sending a shiver of desire through the scarred, cropped-haired Roxolani's powerful frame. " _You_ need to rest. _I_ need you to rest ... and heal quickly. For your sake and the sake of my own sanity. Wanting you so badly and not being able to do anything about it while you're hurt, is slowly killing me ..."

Dagonet laughed softly. " _You_ have a one-track mind, Scout- "

"Well, it's your damn fault," Tristan grumbled good-naturedly. "I keep thinking about you all the time. Just can't fucking stop. Can't help it."

"Neither can I ... Neither can I ..." the tall Sarmatian giant shyly admitted, turning carefully to lie on his uninjured side to face Tristan, draping his left forearm with a gentle possessiveness on the Aorsi's smooth, sleekly muscled flank. "I swear, you'll drive me to insanity, little one ..." He grinned faintly as Tristan raised an eyebrow at his murmured endearment. "You irritate, anger and frustrate me like no one else can, yet ... I'm never happier than when I'm with you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Tris and I love you more tha- "

Tristan silenced him with a sweet, tender, lingering kiss, then slowly drew back to lightly rest his forehead against Dagonet's. He knew his Healer was an intensely private man who guarded his emotions fiercely. It had taken a lot for him to reveal his feelings so honestly. Leaving himself defenceless. And so vulnerable. Up close, Tristan clearly appreciated how tired Dagonet appeared. He was still extremely pale and was fighting like the very devil to keep his glittering, silver eyes open. Carefully, the solitary Aorsi cushioned Dagonet's head upon his chest and smiled faintly with genuine happiness.

"Sleep, my love," he murmured. "You need to rest. I won't leave you, I swear, Dag ... I'll stay with you. For as long as you want me to."

With a smile that mirrored his much loved Scout's, Dagonet could only nod and fell into a deep and restful sleep in the haven of Tristan's embrace.

 **Finis**


End file.
